Forever Yours
by o-WinterQueen-o
Summary: There are some things that never leave you. Scars that won't heal, memories that won't fade, love that won't die. These things stay with you forever, no matter how much you and the world around you may change. (V: And The Burning Sun Fell to the Frigid Blade)


**Hey y'all~ This is a lil gift fic for my friend and fellow Queen of Hell, Ash~ It's set in the aftermath of our tumblr Betrayal Verse (V: And the Burning Sun Fell to the Frigid Blade), but can be read as a stand alone story. PSA: This has literally no comfort, it's just sad. I cried writing it. Anyways, enjoy!~ ::v**

* * *

Late saturday morning sunlight filtered lazily into the room through the blinds, finally having risen high enough to rouse the sleeping redhead. Tired brown eyes squeezed shut as shifted his body slightly to bury his face further into his pillow, cuddling closer to his fluffy body pillow. He didn't want to wake up. He was comfortable with the thick warm blankets surrounding him and the feeling of an arm slung snugly around his waist…

— _Wait…!_

Once sleepy eyes snapped open with terror, breath hitching and muscles tensing, when he realized that he was not alone in his bed. _Not again, not again._ Hardly a second had passed and he was already beginning to hyperventilate. _**Not again.**_

Ichigo kicked out at the other body beside him- struggling with everything he had in him to get away from the one holding him, his body bucking and twisting in a sudden frenzy. Heels and knees knocked hard against shins and thighs. Shaking hands attacked the arm, pushing and clawing frantically at the appendage in his desperation to get away. _Not again. No. No more._

The grip was broken quickly and Ichigo, with all his struggling and kicking, was sent over the edge of the bed, crashing into the floor in a heap with his pillow and blankets. Still, that wasn't enough. Not nearly enough distance. He had to get _Away_.

He couldn't. Couldn't take the pain. He couldn't take seeing him again, not like this. He couldn't. Not anymore.

Eyes darting around the room frantically, Ichigo found that he had backed himself into the wall. The wall furthest away from the door. FUck. He wouldn't make it to the door like this. FUck fuCk _fuck_! He felt terror beginning to overwhelm him, his body trembling like a leaf, his heart picking up to a dangerous tempo, and his throat beginning to seal up with panic.

Then he laid eyes on the one rising into a sitting position on the bed.

"What the fuck, Ichigo?! That fucking hurt!"

Ichigo's eyes bulged for a moment. It wasn't Shiro. It was his friend. The friend he invited to stay the night before since they were too exhausted to drive safely to their own place. It wasn't Shiro. Ichigo took in a gasping breath as the fear slowly began to drain out of his body. His tremors slowed though they did not still and his heart rate eased. It wasn't Shiro.

He allowed himself to enjoy his relief for a moment, just a moment. Because Shiro wasn't here. He was fine. He was fine. Shiro wasn't here. Then his face crumpled.

Shiro hadn't come close to him in three years. Shiro hadn't laid a finger on him in three years. The last time he'd even seen Shiro was last month when Renji took him for his bi weekly visit to the Seireitei prison…

Yet, he practically just attacked his friend for hugging him in his sleep because of _him_ … The redhead ran his hands through his hair in frustration as shame filled tears spilled down his face. Three years and he still couldn't handle it. Three fucking years and he was still sent into blind panic at such a mere act as being held in his sleep. Three years since he woke up in that hospital room screaming and hysterical after losing consciousness when Shiro betrayed him and drained nearly all of his spiritual pressure.

Dammit all.

He really was just a goddamned broken excuse of a person.

A waste of human existence.

A pathetic shell of everything he should have been.

Half muffled sobs wracked his body. Goddamn Ogihci Shirosaki. Goddamn that fucking bastard piece of shit sadist excuse of a fucking Zanpakuto. Three fucking years and he was still a fucking wreck. Three godforsaken years of suffering and he still loved the piece of shit so much it hurt.

So much he was terrified of being conned into believing that it was all just a dream _again_ that he couldn't handle being held in his sleep like that. Like Shiro used to hold him. Because if it was Shiro, he knew he would fall for it. He would crumble like paper under that "soft" golden gaze and then the five minutes of relief would be ripped away from him once he actually started to believe the lie and all the pain would just worsen even more. Because he was so fucking stupid. Because he could so easily be swayed yet again. Because all he wanted was to believe was that all this fucking hell really was a dream. All of this was a nightmare and Shiro really did care about him. But no matter how much he wished it, that would never be reality.

Reality was him sitting curled up on his bedroom floor sobbing in front of one of his friends from Uni for having woken up to being hugged because his piece of shit ex-boyfriend felt the need to ruin his life. Reality was still loving the fuck who screwed him over in a billion different ways. Reality was never being able to interact with other people normally because Ogihci Shirosaki thought it would be amusing to burn the memories of his fingers into Ichigo's skin and infect every aspect of his life to the point there was no memory or experience that didn't lead back to him.

God what a joke.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading~**

 **–Kari ❤**


End file.
